


loneliness doesn't exist with family by your side

by clarakent (niewanyin)



Series: pretty little bird [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Dick Grayson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gen, Omega Tim Drake, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22329163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niewanyin/pseuds/clarakent
Summary: Slade returns Tim.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: pretty little bird [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607236
Comments: 12
Kudos: 208





	loneliness doesn't exist with family by your side

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 1 of Tim Drake Week, Hurt/Comfort.

Tim can't stop shaking, his heart thudding in his throat as Slade takes him to Dick's apartment, tears streaming down his face as he imagines his older brother's lips curling in disgust as he looks down at Tim. He's still in his heat, still has Slade's cum on his thighs, still in so much pain that it's almost blinding him. Slade laughs and slaps his ass, causing a scream to erupt from Tim as he feels more cum, blood, and slick slide out of him.

Slade fucked him again when his knot went down. And then again.

Tim was a virgin, and now he's not.

Slade doesn't even have the decency to put him in clothes, but is carrying him to Dick's apartment with Tim completely naked. It's in that stage of transitioning to very late at night to very early in the morning, and no one else seems to be awake, but Tim can still feel phantom eyes that are bearing witness to his shame. He's still being placed on the hard floor outside of Dick's apartment, his hands and feet pound. He's still having a blindfold placed over his eyes as Slade laughs and he shakes his head, unable to get away because Slade is stronger and tougher and bitterly determined to make Tim know how weak he is.

"Please don't leave me," he begs, because he doesn't want to be around Slade, but he's scared of Dick seeing this. Of Dick seeing how completely and utterly weak he is, but Slade just laughs. He just arranges Tim's legs so Dick can see the fluids that's leaking out of him. Slade kisses the top of his head, the act to kind and gentle for everything that Slade has been doing to him. He brushes his hand through Tim's hair, wipes away the tears from his cheeks. It's futile, new ones just come to join them.

"Just wait for your brother," Slade whispers. "Let him look at you in all your glory."

Tim hears him leave. He can't stop the sobs from escaping him, curling in on himself as he tries to get warm. He doesn't want Dick to see him.

He doesn't know how long he lies there, waiting for the inevitable, but then he hears the door next to him be thrown open and heavy breathing along with the thick scent of an alpha, of _Dick_. His head ducks into his knees, trying to curl up even tighter as he feels fingers pull apart the blindfold, and Tim's head is guided up so he can look into Dick's horrified sky-blue eyes.

The tears still haven't stopped, and looking at Dick makes them return with a force. He doesn't want Dick to see this, but he can't stop the tears and he can't stop his stupid mind from desperately wanting comfort. "It hurts," is the only thing that leaves his mouth, and Dick's face falls as he gathers Tim up in his arms.

"Baby bird," he whispers, putting an arm around Tim's knees and keeping him curled up as he lifts him up. "We're going to get you to a hospital."

Tim wants to beg for Dick to take him to the Cave and patch him up, but that means Bruce and Alfred seeing him like this. Not that they won't hear about this, not that this is going to be a secret.

Tim had been thinking about revealing his identity to the team, but he won't be able to once news of this breaks out. He's never going to be able to show his true face to them.

He's still cold and he's naked and he doesn't want to be either, but he can't get words out because he's crying too hard. He just rests his face in the crook of Dick's neck, and lets Dick take care of wrapping him up in a jacket, getting him to Dick's car, driving him to the hospital. The heat's tearing through his body even worse now, burning him up on the inside. Time moves in snaps, and he's in the car and then they're driving through the city and then Dick's taking him into the hospital, and Tim can't stop crying. He wonders why he can't why his body refuses to calm down and think about this rationally. He needs to . . . he needs to figure this out.

He can't. He literally can't. He just wants to curl up and die, but he knows that Dick won't let that happen, and he doesn't see the use for arguing with Dick. But a wave of exhaustion overcomes him, and nothing about what's happening right now is something that he wants to deal with. He closes his eyes, and slips into a comforting darkness.

*

He wakes up in a bed, blankets piled on top of him. He's cleaned up, but still in heat. Dick just made sure that he was taken care of after he passed out. He rolls over to see both Dick and Bruce asleep on the couch. Dick's head is in Bruce's lap, Bruce's hand in his hair. He stares at them, the scent of the two most important alphas in his life comforting him and making him feel safe. He can feel his eyes begin to water again, and he bites his lip. He doesn't want to disturb them, but they begin to blur in front of him.

He buries his face into the pillow, and lets a shaky breath escape him, memories flooding back. Slade on top of him. Slade forcing himself into Tim. Slade _laughing._ Tim just wants to forget it all. Is that too much to ask for?

He forces his head back to look at Bruce and Dick, still sleeping soundly. Their faces look so worried still. He wants to reach out and touch them, but he's too afraid to.

_"Say hi to your big brother."_

_"Gotta say, it's quite an honor to ruin this brat.”_

_“Though it sure as hell won’t be tight.”_

A sob forces its way out of him, and then another one, and then another, and then he's fully sobbing into his pillow, unable to stop as Slade's words chant in his mind and he feels his touch all over his body. He doesn't feel okay. He feels hollowed out, used, broken. He feels a touch land on his back and he sobs harder, because Slade is coming back. Slade is coming back and he's going to rape Tim again.

"No," escapes him. "Please, no."

He can't control himself, can't control his shaking, but the touch is gone and then it's a hand on his cheek and then whispered, "Baby bird, you're okay." Tim shakes his head, because he's not okay. He's never going to be okay because he was raped and he's not a virgin anymore and he's ruined now. He's completely and utterly ruined.

"Tim, look at me," a different voice says. The first voice. . . . That was Dick. This one is Bruce, and despite everything, Tim can't disobey a direct command. He turns to look at Bruce, his eyes wet, making Bruce only a blurry image. "Tim, it's going to be okay. Nothing that Slade said is true."

How do they know what Slade said? And then it hits him. The video. The camera. They watched it, and he shakes again, because they were never supposed to see that. But of course, that's not what Slade wanted, he wants Dick and Bruce to see Tim's shame and see how pathetic he is.

"Tim, you're not _pathetic_ ," Dick whispers, and fuck, did he say that out loud? They aren't supposed to know the truth. " _Slade's_ pathetic for doing this to you." A hand brushes through Tim's hair, and he screws his eyes shut because fuck, fuck, fuck. Dick isn't suppose to be kind, that's not the script. He's supposed to be mad at Tim for tarnishing his legacy, for proving that an omega could never be Robin. "Bruce is right, Slade is a fucking _liar._ "

Tim shakes his head, because Dick is just trying to make him feel better. That's all this could be. Dick is too good to actually be mad at Tim when he's in a hospital bed, so he's lying until Tim can stand of his own free will again. Dick sighed with frustration. "God, Tim, what will it take for you to believe me?"

He curls in on himself, because maybe he's wrong, maybe Dick won't wait. And Tim wants to hear the truth, but he also doesn't know if he can handle it. He shakes and continues to sob, wanting to be held.

A hand circles both his wrists, strong and solid and big, a weight that makes everything better. It's Dick's hand, he's close enough and clear enough that he can smell honey and blueberries. "Tim, you aren't weak. And you aren't pathetic. You were hurt like anyone could be hurt." Dick takes a deep breath and swallows. "You were raped."

Tim closes his eyes, but Slade above him flashed through his mind, and he opens them quickly, shaking because he's been marked for the rest of his life. Slade's a part of him now, even when he tries to disappear.

"Dick," he hears Bruce say above him. "Give him a moment."

Tim doesn't know what else to do, because all he's doing now is crying while Dick holds his hands with only one of his, brushing the other through Tim's hair and letting him take comfort in the movement. Bruce is sitting down on the edge of the bed, down by Tim's feet, a hand on his ankle and steady presence. They let him cry, let him sob, until eventually it's all out of him, and he's left in the bed, heart empty and his entire body disgusting thanks to tears, snot, and slick. He looks into Dick's red-rimmed eyes, and feels like he wants to sob more, but his body just won't let him.

He shifts in the bed and Dick lets go of his wrists, but keeps his hand in his hair. He takes a deep breath. "Tim, I love you so much, and one day I hope love yourself that much because baby bird, you're an incredible kid. And you deserve to be proud of who you are. And what happened to you doesn't define you."

"I was raped," he whispers. "I don't know how I'm going to get over that."

Dick shakes his head. "Tim, it isn't something to just get over."

Tim doges the statement. "I'm not Robin anymore, am I?"

There. He laid it out on the table, the awful truth of it. He can't be Robin, not after Slade saw him like that. And that video. . . . There might not be only one copy. Who knows how many Slade has in his possession, how many he could be giving out to everyone? People seeing his face? Seeing him like that? That video could unlock all their identities.

"You are," Bruce rumbles above him. "You will always be Robin. There's nothing that Slade could do that could ever change that, do you understand?" The words are pure Batman, and Tim nods instinctively. He's still Robin. He's still Robin. Bruce might be ashamed of him, but not so ashamed that he's taking away the Robin mantle and that's really all he can wish for.

"We'd never take Robin away from you," Dick whispers, appalled. "No way."

"But I ruined Robin" Tim says. 

Dick shakes his head. "Robin can't be ruined by Slade Wilson. You will always be stronger and braver and kinder than him."

 _Liar_ , his mind whispers, but Tim forces the thought away. He wants to believe Bruce and Dick in their words. He wants to know that they mean what they say, and . . . and he's good at reading people and he's really good at reading them, at least he thinks so, and he can't see anything that indicates that they're lying.

Tim rolls over onto his back, wincing at how that pulls at his muscles. Dick and Bruce watch him carefully. The heat is still curling in his mind, but he's cold now, wanting warmth to seep into his bones and make him feel okay. He wraps his arms around himself, and closes his eyes, hoping that this works. He wants Dick to wrap his arms around Tim, make him feel safe. He licks his lips, before forcing out, "Can you hold me?"

"Of course," Dick says, voice cracking. He clambers onto the hospital bed, wrapping his arms around Tim and pulling Tim's head to lay right on his heart, the solid beating immediately calming Tim along with the scent of honey and blueberries. He noses his way to plant his face into his big brother's chest. Dick lets a soft chuckle escaped him at the movement. "Don't worry, Tim," he whispers. "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

Tim nods, feeling the exhaustion take over him. Bruce's hand is still on his ankle, and Dick has fully engulfed him in safety, and he knows it's okay to let down his guard. He sighs and before he knows it, he's fallen into a kinder darkness than before.

*

He wakes up with his face still in Dick's chest, his brother playing with his hair. He and Bruce are talking, and Tim doesn't know how long he's been asleep. They aren't talking about any of major importance, but the latest Knights game. Tim guesses he slept through the major conversations, and now they're left with talking about the mundane.

And he can't really fool Bruce or Dick, who both still the moment Tim shifts a little. "Tim?" Bruce asks carefully. "Are you awake?"

Tim debates if he feels like staying up or falling back asleep, but eventually decides that he should be getting up. He turns his face to the side, and looks down at Bruce. "Hey."

His heat is feeling better, but he still feels the faint trickles of it reverberating through his body. It makes him wonder if he can go home, and making the biggest eyes that he possibly can, he asks, "Can I go home now?"

Bruce nods. "The doctors said that you could go home as soon as you wake up for good. You ready?"

Tim nods, his heart leaping at the thought of getting back home and to his own bed. He struggles to sit up until Dick helps him, frowning. "You sure?" he asks.

"Yes," Tim whispers. "I just want to get home."

"Of course, you do," Bruce tells him. "And Alfred has been baking day and night for you to have all your favorite foods, and he's made sure that your room is nice and clean."

Tim actually manages a smile at that. Bruce stands up and grabs some clothes out of a bag, one that Tim hasn't noticed until this moment. "I made sure to bring over comfortable clothes for you," Bruce states. The comfortable clothes in question are a Batman t-shirt and a Nightwing sweatshirt with Superman sweatpants, all of which Tim already owned and he wonders what gave Bruce the audacity to know him so well. He can't help that his smile gets a little bit bigger as he reaches for the clothes. "Do you need help getting them on?" Bruce asks.

Tim hates it, but he thinks he does. He nods shortly, and all Bruce does is ask, "Me or Dick?"

"Don't care," Tim whispers. "Just as quickly as possible."

Bruce nods, and hands the clothes to Dick. It's a slow process, because Tim keeps hissing in pain whenever something is pulled too quickly, especially his legs. Dick does his best not to look at him too long, which is Tim is grateful for. He knows that Dick surely looked over his entire body when he found him on his doorstep, and that every wound has already been cataloged and remembered. There's a moment when he's putting on Tim's shirt that his fingers touch upon the bite-mark that Slade left in his skin at the back of the throat, and both he and Tim freeze up. But then Dick shakes his head, pulling himself out of the moment and just continues on his way.

Bruce was getting the discharge papers ready as Dick helped Tim get dressed, and it's not long before Tim's getting wheeled out of the hospital, into a car that Alfred's driving, his side gaze locked upon Tim. Bruce gets into the passenger seat, and Dick slides in next to Tim. Without even thinking about it, Tim curls up on his side and places his head in Dick's lap, letting Dick's hand comes to thread through his hair. "Thanks," he mumbles, staring at the back of the chair.

"Of course," Dick whispers back. "Anything for you."

They're back at the Manor before he knows it, and Tim thinks he completely zoned out in that time-frame because he really has no memories of anything that happened between the hospital and the Manor except for Dick's hand in his hair. He wonders how common that's going to be. He wonders why he can't forget a single thing about Slade's rape.

Dick gets him up to his room, settles him in and Tim sinks with a sigh into the heavy blankets, the weight a comfort. He's not tired, but he does want to close his eyes for a little bit. "Dick?" he murmurs, and he gets a questioning hum in response.

"How bad was the tape? Did you watch it all?"

Silence, and then: "Yeah, it was bad."

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He's realizing that he's more tired than he thought. "It couldn't have been very pleasant."

A harsh laugh. "Yeah, it wasn't." A strong hand lands in his hair. "I watched it all, Tim, but don't think that it means that I think less of you. I've meant everything I said, nothing that happened is something against _you_. It's all Slade's fault."

"Will I really be okay?"

"You will be," and this is what Tim loves about Dick, how strong and sure he is even in the face of what feels like insurmountable odds, and it makes him feel like the odds will be defeated, that they will be conquered. He feels like he's going to be okay because Dick says he's going to be okay.

"You want to sleep again?" Dick asks, and Tim nods into the pillow. "Do you want me to stay?" Tim nods again. "Where do you want me to be?" Tim hums because he doesn't care where Dick is, he just wants him close. Dick laughs again, but lighter, happier. He sits down on the bed next to Tim, and Tim turns around to curl up next to him, smiling as he begins to soak up Dick's warmth. "I'll be here when you wake, baby bird," Dick tells him, and Tim believes him.

He's not a disappointment.

He's not a failure to the Robin legacy.

Slade's a liar, and Dick believes in him.

He falls asleep with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm salazarastark on tumblr as well, so follow me [here](https://salazarastark.tumblr.com/)! I'm not as active as I'd like to be, but I'm always up for talking about my fics or anything else!


End file.
